


If Only Your Mouth Were Shut

by TheSilentUnderworld



Series: How Boredom Lead to Sex [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:06:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilentUnderworld/pseuds/TheSilentUnderworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's bored, John is frustrated, but this time he isn't the one who makes the first move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Only Your Mouth Were Shut

Boredom, in 221B, was not a detour from the excitement. More often than not boredom was the constant with excitement being the brief, interesting intervals that broke it up. Sherlock wasn’t on his nicotine, either, and that made John’s life a living hell.

This was some time after a vaguely sexual encounter between the two, on another one of Sherlock’s insufferably annoying ‘bored’ days, where John gave him something to do. Well, to suck, more accurately, but neither of them had brought it up since.

Rather than begging for, or even threatening for- his fix, he had taken to annoying John. It seemed he found enjoyment in making John just as miserable as he was.

"Joooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn." His voice said the two syllables as long and annoyed as they possibly could be.

John knew exactly what would be coming and he knew exactly how annoying it would be; this was nowhere near the first time Sherlock Holmes had been bored. He closed the book he had been thumbing over, some manner of sappy romance he hadn’t yet read much of, and threw it to Sherlock.

"There."

"There?"

"Read it."

Sherlock gave him a ‘you know this will last me a good fifteen minutes, yes?’ sort of look but didn’t disobey.

He had underestimated himself; thirteen minutes.

"John." Sherlock said, only to get his attention. "What is a safe word?"

John gulped in response. Since when had he been reading smut? “Uhm.”

There was a moment where Sherlock simply observed, wondering if he should ask again. Was it one of those social taboos John was always so touchy about? “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

Yes. Yes it did. Not the actual definition, John was well acquainted with most sexual practices, but talking about it? With Sherlock? That made him uncomfortable, even after their vague encounter. “Why don’t you look it up?”

"Having you explain is easier."

"The laptop is right there." John motioned to his laptop, situated on the table, which at this point was their laptop.

"That would require my getting up."

"Don’t be lazy, Sherlock."

"You don’t be lazy John, and tell me." Sherlock crossed his arms, which looked sort of funny considering he was sprawled out on the couch.

John took a moment to gather an accurate definition. If Sherlock was insistent on an answer, John might as well give him a correct one. “Ugh… A safe word is a word that tells your partner to stop, that isn’t literally ‘stop’.”

"Why couldn’t they just say ‘stop’ though?" Sherlock enquired with his signature ‘illogical’ look.

"Sometimes people want to… fantasize, alright? ‘Pretend’ if you will?" It was such a personal thing and such a hard complex for John to explain to a virtual robot. Even if that robot acted like a five year old sometimes.

"That’s so weird." Ah, there was the characteristic childishness John and everyone else had just grown to love.

"Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to."

"I’ll ask whatever I please." Such a bloody child.

"WELL THINK OF SOMETHING!" John snapped louder than was common for him, but Sherlock… Sherlock could put him this way some times.

A moment passed in which Sherlock was thinking and John was regretting the loudness of his remark. For a moment. Just a moment.

" I’m not the creative type…"

"Oh my god." John huffed, he had almost said sorry, too. "Shut the hell up, really, just for one day can we live in silence?"

Sherlock glared at him, ice eyes assessing a proper course of action. Not like he was going to be an adult about it. Never. “No. Not unless one of us is dead.” And with that he rolled off the couch on purpose and laid there on his stomach. His emotional age reverting to around three. All time low, John reckoned.

John refused to acknowledge this idiotic action and rather went and picked up his laptop, walking past the floor bound man-child that was his flat mate, and returning to his seat.

"Now your ignoring me, huh?" Sherlock pouted- pouted? Why was that even a surprise.

"Well maybe you shouldn’t have bothered me in the first place." It was not a question, but a stern statement.

The response he was given was little more than a groan, which muffled slightly as Sherlock… Rolled onto John’s feet.

"Why don’t you walk around town or something." John suggestion, still not giving Sherlock the satisfaction of a comment on his ludicrous behavior.

"To much human interaction, John, you know me better than that." He swayed on John’s feet slightly, just to be more of a pest.

"You don’t have to talk to anyone…just walk around and expend some energy."

"People will find a reason to talk to me." He flung a hand up that tapped the back of John’s screen, lowering it to an annoying, unreadable position.

"Can you not touch my laptop, please."

After a moment of deliberation Sherlock’s still risen hand went back and taped it again.

"Stop it."

"Never." He did it again, and with that was the last bit of John’s patience being burnt.

"STOP. NOW." His military voice boomed, and it was apparent Mrs. Hudson and everyone else on Baker street had just gotten a jolt.

Sherlock’s hand dropped immediately. He sort of… curled in on himself. Mostly a ploy for John’s attention and partially actual response.

John sighed, ok, maybe that one was a bit harsh. “Sherlock…I’m sorry…”

With that Sherlock grinned and stretched back out. “I was playing.” He yawned. “And still bored.” He made a show of rolling off of him. ” Sooooo boooorrreeedddd.”

John sighed, no winning with this man, and sat the laptop down. “Well, what do you want me to do?”

"Anything."

"Specifics."

"Aaannnyyyttthhhiiinnnggg" Sherlock pronounced every syllable like its own word, before he sat up and caught half a glimpse at what was on John’s now idle screen. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." John almost jumped to close the screen he hadn’t realized Sherlock could decipher. Before he could though Sherlock had stood and snatched it away, running over mostly foreign word’s quickly.

John’s heart skipped a beat, he had not been looking up anything clean after Sherlock had forced them onto the subject. It was in text at least, he had the decency not to watch pornography in front of his flat mate.

"What is a Dom? Is it short for dominant? Dominant how?" Sherlock looked up, or down, from the screen to John.

A moment passed where no one spoke.

"In sex." John answered shortly. "Now give me my laptop back."

"Are you a ‘Dom’?" Sherlock asked, not giving the slightest notice to John’s request.

"You could say that…" He admitted, he enjoyed the role, but was that really any of Sherlock’s concern? Wait, no, was it?

"Do you use ‘safe words’?" Sherlock had no boundaries with his questions, lord.

"That’s for me to know, and you to never find out." He finally stood and took his laptop back, returning once again to his seat. "Is that really any of your business?"

"Everything’s my business."

"Only when you’re interested in it."

"And I’m interested in it. Mostly for lack of better stimuli."

"Find a better stimuli."

And this time it was Sherlock who sighed, sliding down to his- to his knees? And in between John’s leg’s for the matter.

No one may have spoken of that vaguely sexual encounter, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

"I’m bored." Now all the meaning in the world laid in those words.

John took a moment to remember what their relationship had recently turned into before his face softened with the glide of his fingers along Sherlock’s jaw line. “You’re that bored?”

"It’s mind numbing." Sherlock responded, only half of his answer. The second part being the gentle nudge into John’s hand. He may be one of the most annoying men John has ever met, but he was also the most beautiful, most ingenious, and in his own odd way, the kindest.

"Fine then~ " John smiled down at him, taking one of Sherlock’s hands and rising.

"Nh?" The noise was less a protest and more a curious inquiry. "What are you doing?"

Sherlock’s experience with sex was equal to John’s experience with Sherlock. Which was not much.

John responded with an order as soon as he had entered his room and closed the door behind them. “On the bed. Now.”

"I…"

"Bed. Now." His voice nearly dipped back into military.

Surprisingly, Sherlock did so with ought verbal question.

"Good. Now stay there."

And again, he did, but not with ought a little, nervous shift in how he was sitting.

"Don’t move." He turned to his closet and started looking for something, which he quickly attained, and turned back to his waiting sub. "Eye’s or mouth?" In his hand’s was two black ties easily long enough for the job it was about to perform.

It took Sherlock just a moment of deliberation. “Eye’s…” He trusted John enough not to be seen, and he wanted to be able to call this off if he were so inclined.   
  
"Alright~" John laid one tie on the bed while he stretched out the other and tied it around Sherlock’s eyes. "You actually look a bit cute with the blindfold~"

"The Russian Mafia would agree." Sherlock almost scoffed.

"Well I can’t blame them." John grinned and slid over to Sherlock, laying a kiss Sherlock did not expect on his lips.

"I can." Sherlock responded as though John had meant his statement, which just made John chuckle. "Why are you laughing?" He quickly added.

"Because, you’re in no place to be talking like you are and yet you insist~" He kissed Sherlock again, and grabbed the other tie.

"Ok Captain. If I must be quiet." Sherlock sighed, not knowing exactly how quickly his word’s went to John’s ego and cock.

"I retract that statement. Keep calling me that." John licked his lips, and started tying Sherlock’s hands together.

"Superiority complex?"

"If you talk like that I might change my mind."

"Ah, yes, so what are you going to do to me, Captain." Sherlock put his starkness on the back burner, if it meant he was still allowed to talk.

"Ravish you, if you wanted~" And with that John leaned down, moving Sherlock’s collar out of the way and landing a gentle bite on his supple neck. Testing the water’s, if you will.

"Mh- " Sherlock gave a subdued moan. "Safe word, what is it?"

"Hmm, a word you wouldn’t say on accident. If you do I’ll stop in a heartbeat."

"Elementary."

"Elementary?" John chuckled, such a Sherlockian answer, and bit him a little harder.

"Nhh." The moan was more pronounced this time, pain usually was to be avoided but it seemed worth it for the love marks he knew it would leave. "What’s wrong with that?"

"Nothing, Sherlock, nothing at all." John grinned and bit a new space, hands moving down to untuck Sherlock’s shirt and slide his hands up his sides.

There was a moment where it was just the two of them, John touching and kissing and Sherlock making little subdued moans.

"How- how far are we going?" The question found Sherlock after John bound his hands and undid his belt.  
  
"I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to." The answer was automatic, and sincere. Even if he was being dominant and even if Sherlock was being the perfect little sub- he had to make it known it was just pretend, that Sherlock was not being forced into anything.

"Just, maybe, touching… for now….." He seemed shy- Sherlock-only-a-sheet-in-Buckingham-Palace-Holmes, seemed shy.

But that was soon fixed with a kiss and a hand through his hair.

"Alright~" John’s voice dipped again, to something low and rough and indecent. His hand slid down to tease Sherlock through his boxers- or whatever the man wore.

The word’s that escaped Sherlock were automatic, uncalculated, and was his giving into the sensations. “O-oh captain~”

"Feels good, doesn’t it?~" The question didn’t need, rather, already had an answer.

Sherlock bucked into John’s hand because the cloth between it and Sherlock’s aching cock was miles and mountain ranges and it was driving Sherlock insane to be so full and so void and so helpless all at once. “Ohh, o-oh yes, More John, please.”  
He had never felt like this before, not once. Nor had he ever felt the need to. But now, with John, it was different. He wanted his touch. His praise. His guidance. He wanted him, and it was terribly, wonderfully irrationally thrilling.

And no one but John Watson made Sherlock beg.

"Wrong name." John teased back and that frustrated Sherlock further.

"Captain, more, please." He sounded exasperated from the pure need building inside him.

"Good boy~" John freed Sherlock’s cock from its bounds, and slid a finger up its length before he took it in hand and slowly gave him what he wanted.

"Ha-h, t-thank you~" He moaned, indulging in the almost new and certainly stimulating feeling.

John observed him then, in a light far different than the ‘normal’ Sherlock Holmes. This was a human with human needs and human desires. Not a machine, a living, breathing, wanting creature. And that was damn near awe striking for John. “It’s good to know you can lust too~”

"Nhhh, your fault- Captain~" Sherlock was using that name so well, and how John appreciated it.

"Good boy~" He smiled, and rushed his hand’s pursuit; drawing more breathless and taking moans from his pretty little sub. John laid more kisses on Sherlock than he had anyone in his time, he thought, and maybe that had to do with what John had with Sherlock had and they didn’t.

An actual bond.

"Ah, too much, gonna- gonna- " It wasn’t the safe word he was looking for, no, not at all, but it drew John from his thought’s. Maybe a type of curse or something for Sherlock’s bound hand’s to squeeze as the pleasure built- but not the safe word.

John had a grin as he watched the poor man thrust into him without leverage, begging to be pushed over the edge.

"Cum for your Captain~"

And oh did he. It hit him like a tidal wave- like twenty years without. Like a dose of LSD, or any one of the many drugs Sherlock Holmes had had in his day. It was chillingly close to really being high. And we all know Sherlock’s feelings on the matter.

Sherlock let out a breath after the feeling had passed, and accounted for his time of not thinking.

"C-an you untie me?" He asked with ought air, and John did. Thus he saw the mess he had made all over himself, and cringed slightly. "Vile."

"You don’t ever change, do you? John replied, remembering that being his exact reaction after he made John cum all those weeks ago.

"You wouldn't want me any other way."


End file.
